Jim
by InterestinglySherlock
Summary: Ever since the mind-meld with Spock Prime, Kirk has been troubled by nightmares. The current Spock offers to help him sort through it all via another mind-meld, and they discover memories of the friendship they both shared in an alternate universe. A stroll down memory lane of Kirk and Spock's friendship through TOS and the movies, via the 09' characters' eyes.
1. Defining Friendship

"Something troubling you, Captain?"

The perfectly ordered, even-toned voice of the Vulcan came from behind the Captain's chair. Nothing out of the ordinary, just Spock coming over from his post as Science Officer to see why the Captain was in a particularly odd mood. James Kirk was certainly in an odd mood, and wasn't surprised to see at least one person pick up on it, though he didn't peg the Vulcan for being particularly sensitive to human dispositions. But when the Captain had answered pretty much every question today with a 'Huh?', spilled his coffee twice, and had the ship nearly peg an asteroid all within the space of two hours, even Spock knew that something was amiss with the normally professional Captain.

Kirk knew that his recent success and promotion as Captain had come as a bit of a surprise to the crew, and even to his best friend, Bones, but he'd proven himself quite well, in his opinion, over the past few weeks. He'd been competent, and even excelled at his new station.

But lately he'd not been sleeping well.

"Huh?" Kirk winced when he realized this was the 15th 'huh' he'd uttered today.

"I mean, I'm fine, Spock. Really."

Spock took two perfectly-even steps closer to the Captain's chair, and spoke in a lower tone. "If you are feeling ill, Captain, it's quite all right to admit that you are not—"

"I'm fine, really, Spock."

"You've not had adequate rest."

Now that was intuitive. The Captain smirked. "Is it that obvious?"

"You could have the Doctor prescribe you a sleeping aid, if this is a recurrent issue—"

"It's not," Kirk lied.

Spock gave him a long look. They hadn't known each other for very long, but Kirk felt like he knew the Vulcan a lot longer—something about meeting the guy's older self and mind-melding with him a bit tended to create a sense of familiarity. In fact, he hadn't slept well at all since the mind-meld, come to think of it. How long had it been? A month, maybe? Kirk rubbed his chin—it was gritty, he'd forgotten to shave.

"Maybe I just need coffee. I could use the walk. Did you get anything to eat, yet?"

"I've eaten, yes."

"Well, anyway. Walk with me."

Spock dutifully followed Kirk into the turbolift. Kirk sighed. He wasn't quite sure how to begin this conversation. After all, Spock was an alien—half-alien, anyway, and even though he knew the Vulcan wouldn't take offense to it.

Oh well.

"What can you tell me about mind-melds?" he blurted out.

Spock blinked, the only sign of surprise that he'd get out of him. "Mind melds? Why do you ask?"

"I don't know…just curious?"

"You could look up references and documentation in the ship's computer, I could point out areas of interest that normally wouldn't show in an indexing search—"

"Well, this mind-meld was in fact…" Kirk took a deep breath. He knew the universe wouldn't necessarily end, after all, the two of them _had _met already, but it was too weird a situation to easily shake off that fear.

"It was actually from you. The older you."

Spock stood very still for a moment, even stiller than usual. It was actually taking him a moment to compose himself. Then, as unflappable as ever, he spoke as if nothing was unusual.

"If you forgive my curiosity, why did he…or I…do this?"

"He explained about—you explained about Nero and how he—how you got here, to this universe. It was actually a pretty quick and easy way of learning about it. But ever since then, I've just…been having these really—"

"Nightmares," Spock said simply.

Kirk stared. "Yeah."

The turbolift stopped and the door opened. Kirk slammed his hand on the close button and it shut, much to the dismay of an Ensign carrying several large cases. Spock continued.

"Such events have been documented amongst other species who have encountered mind-melds, though most have faded in time. Some don't even get nightmares at all. But this, I speculate, may be due to the simple nature of…as plainly as I can put it…destiny."

"Whoa, destiny? I thought you don't believe in such things," Kirk scoffed.

"Not at all, if a timeline is repairing itself it would make sense that certain events need to play out in certain ways for both to return to a balance. I believe that your encounter with this Spock, one who has encountered the other universes' version of you, and I assume is quite close to, may have left his memories of the other Jim Kirk in your mind. Whether by design or accident, I do not know. This will manifest as nightmares as your subconscious tries to deal with it."

"Wait—hold your horses here—I don't remember seeing anything of…the other _me_, in what he showed me."

"Which is what I would expect from…myself. But he is much more…emotionally _attuned_than I am," Spock actually seemed to have some difficulty saying this. "And he was dealing with the loss of an entire planet due to his actions. Your alternate would have died many years ago in his timeline. Seeing you again would have brought so many memories to the surface, I doubt that he even tried to suppress the emotions he felt when he mind-melded with you. I theorize that these memories were left behind as he broke the meld, probably without him even knowing it."

"Unless he did it on purpose," Kirk gave Spock an even longer look. He knew the Vulcan was a perfectionist, he doubted that even his older, more 'emotinally-attuned' self would let himself slip like that.

"Unless he did it on purpose," Spock echoed, slowly. "In any case, I believe that we can remedy this by another." Spock held out his hand. "With your permission?"

Kirk balked. "Hey. I had enough of you guys in my head already."

"The only way for you to have peace if you resolve these memories. Once viewed, they will be…released from your subconscious. It shouldn't take long. I doubt there were very many."

An audible sigh. "Okay. Fine. But you better not go poking around in there, I have a lot of private information."

"I have the same self-destruct codes of the Enterprise just as you do."

The raise of an eyebrow. A thinly-veiled attempt at humor? That was scary. In any case, there was no turning back. And he trusted Spock. Now, more than ever. Kirk nodded.

Spock placed his fingers on Kirk's temple and cheek.

"Our minds…are one…" he said in his low, monotone voice.

Suddenly the turbolift disappeared. They were in a hallway, filled with tropical potted plants. It looked familiar, kind of like the academy. Kirk and Spock were somehow there, physically. They looked at each other.

"Does it usually work this way?" he asked the Vulcan.

"Depends on the memory. I thought it would be easier this way to examine it rather than taking an omniscient view."

Two men were walking down the hallway. Spock nodded and they followed behind them. "Just remember," he added. "This memory is the viewpoint of my alternate. Any…feelings that are associated with this memory are _his_." There was a particular emphasis on his. Kirk socked Spock in the arm.

"Don't worry, man, you'll love me just as much as everyone else too, you'll see."

He was right though—there was a peculiar feeling of warmth about them. Something familiar. Kind of like being at home on a cold snowy day reading a good book. Speaking of books, the taller one handed the shorter one a rather old, thick book. Kirk spied the cover. It was "The Tale of Two Cities."

One of the men spoke.

Kirk froze—the voice was older, a little more grizzled, but he'd know it anywhere. And he'd already met the older Spock. He looked at his younger companion, who merely stared ahead.

"You are welcome to look, of course. It's not like they can see or interact with you. This is a memory."

"Well, that's really…quite all right," Kirk said, pretending to be very interested in the nearest potted plant. He wasn't going to admit he was afraid—then again, he did have a Vulcan sharing a bit of his brain at the moment so it wasn't like he could hide that.

"There is no point in trying to hide feelings from me," Spock said without missing a beat. "We are still currently in a mind-meld. If you are hesitant, there is no shame in that. You are, after all, human, and I suspect that seeing oneself in the future is quite a rare occurrence."

"How did you take it, when you saw…yourself?"

Spock paused. "It was, in effect, a bit of a shock."

"You're admitting that to me?"

"Like I mentioned previously, there's no point in trying to hide emotion in a mind-meld," Spock said with just the slightest hint of annoyance in his unflappable tone.

Kirk laughed, when he noticed that the scene had changed—it was a different memory.

A bunch of memories—all flashing before them at an alarming speed.

Bones, himself, and Spock, camping at Yellowstone.

"Jim!" Spock extremely pleased for some reason that Kirk wasn't dead—it looked like they were on Vulcan, and both looked like they'd been in quite a bad fight.

Kirk sitting in a giant pile of Tribbles, looking very annoyed as they spilled out from a bin overhead.

Kirk sitting in the Captain's chair, dealing with a horrifying looking green alien on screen.

Kirk, Spock, Bones, Scotty and Checkov in what looked like a very cheap interpretation of the OK Corral.

Kirk and Spock, fighting in the transporter room. Kirk hurling insults at Spock, Spock hurling fists at and nearly killing Kirk.

Spock holding Kirk back from running across a street in what looked like 20th century earth, as a woman died in front of them.

"What is this?" It was too much. Too much to see, too much to process. "Stop it—stop it, get us out of here!"

And they were back in the Turbolift. Kirk broke away, and hit the open button on the door. He didn't know or care what deck they were on, he just needed to get away. Get away from his thoughts—they were jumbled and overflowing with memories that weren't his, memories of a future that never was and may never be, but somehow…_was _once, somewhere.

He wandered down the hallway for a moment until someone put a hand on his shoulder. He jumped—it was Spock.

"I'm sorry, Captain—I was unable to control the torrent of memories that were left behind, it was stronger than I expected, and much more than I'd assumed—you may be disoriented for quite some time."

"Oh, really?" the Captain still managed an eye roll, before he grabbed the wall, trying his best not to pass out.

"Perhaps we should go to sick bay."

"I'm fine," Kirk hissed through his teeth, and stood up straighter.

He adjusted his uniform, and promptly fell backwards, out cold.

* * *

This story is going to be about 09' Kirk learning about some of the more poignant and epic Kirk moments of the TOS and movies, especially with his brotherly friendship with Spock.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Paramount, and I hold no claim over them, and consider this story exercise fair use under commentary and education

-please let me know how my writing is and critique as you'd like. Thank you in advance!


	2. Arguing with History

The first thing Jim Kirk heard when he came to, was Bones and Spock arguing.

"You can't, Spock, look what it did to him the first time!"

"He must resolve these memories, or it will continue. Or, they may get worse."

"Get worse? The man needs plenty of bedrest, that's all. Let him sleep. The brain will repair itself during the various stages of sleep, including the inclusion of new memories-"

"He's had a month to resolve these memories naturally, and it has not worked. They are still as potent as when they were first introduced. This problem requires artificial assistance, so to speak. I am able to provide the means necessary to put these memories to rest."

"Well, you didn't do such a hot job of it the first time, did you?"

"I was…admittedly, unprepared. I was not expecting the…emotional attachment to these memories this version of myself has. As you well know, Doctor, strong memories are created and enhanced by emotional moments—for example, burning one's hand on a stove as a child creates a memory delved in fear, and one learns not to do that again."

"I know that! I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were, Doctor. I'm merely trying to explain to you that Vulcans experience emotion on a much stronger level than humans, however, we learn to control these emotions. The…other me…has learned a great deal of control, much more than I currently have, but he has also learned to accept them, and even embrace them. Therefore his memories and emotions are at, plainly speaking, full-force Vulcan strength. Now Kirk has these exact memories with their Vulcan emotional weight, and they are overwhelming his human ability to cope with, and even properly store these memories. That and humans are not used to telepathic encounters, and their brains and minds are not prepared to receive such a massive amount of information and input at one time."

"And you want to initiate another mind-meld. Great."

"Only to help him. He is obviously in great need of assistance. And unfortunately, this may become a disease of the mind if he is not helped soon."

Something beeped on the instruments of the wall, and Bones quickly ran over. "He's waking up."

Kirk glared at them both as he slowly, achingly rose from the sick bay bed, with a killer headache. He rubbed his face. "How long was I out?"

"An hour, maybe two," Bones said. His face was a mask of the usual annoyance he displayed whenever he got into an argument with Spock. Which was several times a day, even when he was in a good mood. "Look, Jim, I'm going to give you something to help you sleep. That's all you need—"

"I'm afraid we will have to perform a mind-meld again," Spock interjected. "I have prepared, this time, and we now know the extent of the information that was left behind—"

"You Vulcans, haven't you learned that maybe some species aren't telepathic because we're not supposed to be? You can't go rooting around in people's brains willy-nilly—I took a brain scan of Jim and there's a ridiculous amount of activity going on, take a look." Bones pressed a button on the medical computer and an image of Kirk's brain showed up on the screen above his bed. "Look at that activity there—the medial temporal lobe and the hippocampus are on fire!"

"Fascinating."

Kirk honestly thought Bones would slug his first officer right then and there.

"Fascinating? This man may go insane in a few hours, but to you, it's _fascinating_?" Bones was starting to turn a peculiar shade of red. "You—"

Before he could let off his usual tirade, Kirk held a hand up. "Wait. Wait. Go insane? Care to elaborate on that, Bones?"

Spock cut in. "I would say you are more likely to have a seizure first rather than go insane, though a long-term effect of overstimulation of the hippocampus can be schizophrenia…"

Kirk and Bones both glared at him.

"Not helping," Kirk said, rubbing his temple unconsciously. "Look—I know you're both trying to help, but I really don't want to go through a mind-meld again. Can't you just give me something, Bones?"

Spock cut in again. "If you forget, I was a participant in that particular event as well, and I can assure you that I am taking all mental precautions to guide you through this. You are more than welcome, however, to take a chemical aid for sleep, but once you delve into REM-state, I doubt that you will be pleased with what you see. But then again, Captain, it is your choice."

Bones threw his hands up. "I can't take it anymore. It is your choice, Jim. Do whatever you want."

This was getting worse and worse. He didn't know if Spock really did have the chops to be able to get this stuff out of his mind. But what other choice did he have? He didn't think sleep would cure it either, even if he did manage to have a few extra hours of it. Spock was annoyingly right.

"I'll do the mind-meld again," Kirk said in a low voice. "But I want you monitoring us at all times, Bones."

"I don't like it," Bones muttered. "But you're the Captain."

Spock came forward. He looked tired, somehow, and that was saying something. Maybe he'd spent the last couple of hours in deep meditation. Or perhaps the mental strain was getting to him too.

"I want you to do your best to stay in it this time, Captain, even if the images you see become overwhelming, or emotional, or difficult. If we are prepared, we may successfully navigate through this in one session."

"You mean it?"

Spock gave the slightest indication of a sigh. "If we are successful. Now, we will begin."

"Good luck, Jim," Bones said, nodding.

The Sick Bay disappeared and suddenly they were on the bridge.

"Fascinating," Spock said again.

Kirk admitted that it was fascinating. It was the Enterprise, but it was different, somehow—better technology, different types of computers—they were far into the future. A few people were on the bridge as well, but they were more mechanics than actual bridge personnel. The viewscreen showed the dull gray wall of a spacedock.

The turbolift doors opened, and a much older Kirk and Spock stepped out.

"You will be pleased to note that the maiden voyage will be tomorrow as scheduled," the older Spock said, still looking as thin as ever even in that strange red uniform, with a white turtleneck.

"Yes, yes of course," the older Jim Kirk murmured. He too was wearing the red uniform, with different insignia, and amusingly, was a lot…heavier…than before. Though there was no mistaking that it was himself. The younger Jim shook off the willies. It was too weird to see an older version of oneself. Though there was no mistaking that face, the twinkle in his eyes...the face in the mirror he saw everyday was still there, just...weathered. That's all.

The older Kirk was looking about the place wistfully. "Tomorrow will be the last time I'll fly on this bridge." He then gave a smirk to his friend.

"You think I'd have grown out of this by now. But being here again…it's like old times. Y'know…being retired from Starfleet isn't the same thing as being _dead, _right?"

"You may take as long as you like here," the older Spock said in what seemed like a sensitive tone, for a Vulcan.

"Too bad you couldn't come along tomorrow. Couldn't you reschedule your ambassadorial duties?"

"I'm afraid the dignitaries have a strict schedule."

"Yes…of course, they would."

The older Kirk ran his fingers along the edge of the newly refurbished Captain's chair. He looked as if he wanted to sit in it, and was about to…then hesitantly drew back.

"This is someone else's Enterprise now," he said in a low voice.

"It is the Enterprise-B, but the legacy of the name itself will be well-taken care of. The new Captain, one John Harriman, is a fine officer and was chosen by—"

The older Kirk waved his hand. He obviously did not want to hear that. He kept his hand firmly grasped to the Captain's chair.

"I don't know if I can go out tomorrow. Here, with all these reporters in my face. Sitting somewhere over there, a relic on display. When I should be here, in this seat. Where I belong. And you, over there…" he pointed to the Science station. "And Sulu and Checkov over there, and Uhura at communications, and Bones randomly coming up from Sick Bay to see what's what, and us traipsing through the universe seeking out new civilizations…what wouldn't I give to have just one moment of that again."

Spock nodded. "Nostalgia has its merits and its downfalls. I suggest you do your best to come to terms with—"

The older Kirk stood up straighter.

"I have. Or at least I thought I have."

"Your tone suggests that you—"

Kirk smiled. "Let an old man have his fun, hmm, Spock?" He turned to the chair once again, and squeezed the arm rest.

"Goodbye, old girl. May you have many more adventures…out there."

The younger Kirk and Spock were watching the events unfold from the front of the bridge. He whispered to the Vulcan standing next to him.

"This must be the last time that he…I mean I…see the ship."

"That seems logical. If you note the emotional tone that seems to be inherent in this memory, it is one of immense sadness. I do not believe that I would be as attached to an inanimate object even such as the Enterprise to be feeling this magnitude of sorrow, so I postulate this might be the very last time that my older self sees that Jim Kirk."

The realization dawned on him. "You mean that…this is the _last _time that he sees…me? As in…"

"Yes. This Kirk is probably close to death."

An uncomfortable pause.

"You know, maybe we can skip to another memory—"

"It will resolve when it resolves, all we can do is observe."

Kirk was getting very bothered by this. The feeling of sadness that was echoing through the memory wasn't helping, either.

"I shouldn't be seeing this! Nobody's supposed to know when they're gonna die—that dude's not very old, I mean, what is he, fifty, pushing sixty, maybe? That's way too young—"

"That is strange, why would he show you this?" Spock murmured, mostly talking to himself. "I would not show it, even if the space-time continuum is intact with our physical meeting, this particular memory before us should not be known by us…perhaps he lost control since he was weakened by his experience with Nero-"

"Unless because we are in a different universe, my fate's changed," Kirk quickly interjected.

Spock looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "That's an excellent observation. Whatever this man's fate may have been in that universe, may not be yours now."

"Maybe he was trying to warn us. I mean, warn me, not to…I don't know, go on this last voyage or whatever. That's very specific information we were just given, right? The last voyage of Enterprise-B might be where my…self kicks the bucket. This could have been any old memory without that information. I think he was trying to tell me something. So I wouldn't die there."

"That would be illogical."

"That would be cheating," Kirk gave a slow smirk. "Sounds just like him."

"You could be dying of a disease."

"Then Bones would be hovering around me 24/7. I know him. He's not here, therefore, I'm not dying of a disease. It's something else, probably an accident or something."

Spock looked like he was going to say something else, then thought better of it. _He knows my logic is sound_, Kirk thought with an inward smile.

A strange pull came upon them. The memory was starting to fade.

"Well, here's another one," Kirk said, not feeling ready in the least.

The images around them were starting to fade to white. The older Kirk and Spock entered the turbolift, and they disappeared into the ether.

* * *

Let it be known that my least-favorite Star Trek movie/event/instance is Generations. I can't stand what they did to Kirk. I often like to think it doesn't exist. And at least in this story, now it doesn't. Hooray! :D


	3. Friendly Fight

Then they were in the transporter room. Almost as if they materialized themselves along with the older Spock, who stepped off of the platform with what looked not unlike a smile on his face. He was wearing dull green overalls and not the Starfleet blue uniform the younger Spock was donning.

And strangely enough, he was happy.

The feeling of happiness pervaded the memory through and through. The younger Jim Kirk almost started laughing for no reason, he was so giddy from the strength of the happiness in the memory.

"I have no idea what is going on here, but I never knew Vulcans could be this happy," he said.

The younger Spock was very carefully and purposefully keeping his composure. "I am not sure what is going on either. This is strange."

Then they both noticed the older Jim—actually he wasn't that much older. Maybe 10 years or less? He was holding a metal pipe. He jabbed a finger at the Spock who came down from the transporter platform—and began insulting him.

The younger Kirk and Spock looked uncomfortably at each other as the older Kirk launched on quite a vitriolic tirade. Something about Spock belonging in the circus, having circuits for brains, all quite creative stuff. Not bad, he thought about his older self.

"Look, I'm really sorry about this…" Kirk covered his mouth, trying very hard not to laugh.

"If I am correct, this happiness is artificial. Your alternate must be trying to break through this…spell, so to speak, by making my alternate self angry. It would make sense, after all adrenaline could be used to—

"Spare me the scientific stuff. If you are right, then this is going to get good-" Kirk pointed. "Look!"

Suddenly the feeling of happiness disappeared and they were immersed in a raging anger. Kirk gasped and took a step back, it was so strong. He could barely resist the urge to jump into the fray himself—all he wanted was to punch something and tear it to pieces. Tear the whole room to shreds.

"Steady, Captain." the Spock next to him said, still not showing anything on his face. But he must have been struggling too—an imperceptible twitch started above his left eyebrow. "I can assure you this feeling will end soon—I don't suppose this fight will last long at all, even with a pipe."

"Hey, are you trying to say that I can't hold my own against you?" he snapped back.

The older Kirk went flying into a wall, hurled by the older Spock.

The younger Kirk rubbed his shoulder unconsciously. "Well…you know what I mean."

The anger was turned up even higher—until the older Spock was standing over his Captain, who was on the ground, about to be smashed by the table that the older Spock was holding above his head.

The happiness was gone, and the anger abated—whatever this 'spell' was, he was now free. The older Spock set the case down, and a sense of sadness and guilt filtered through. Sadness that he was unable to feel as happy and carefree as he did a few minutes ago. Guilt because he almost killed his friend and his Captain. Kirk was surprised that these rather coherent thoughts were known to him—though it made sense, this was the Vulcan's memory, after all.

"Are you all right, Captain?" his own Spock turned to ask him, as if the intensity of what they had just witnessed was nothing more than a passing someone on the street.

"Yeah…glad that's over with. Though now I know why he…you, over there, told me to get you mad…back then, when I took over as Captain," he gave Spock a smirk. "You still almost killed me."

"And I am sorry about that," Spock spoke in a clipped tone.

"You gotta admit though. My insults were better when we fought."

"His are linguistically creative. You took advantage of an already emotionally volatile situation," Spock gave him a long look. "You could have said nearly anything and I would have reacted in kind."

"So you admit to being emotionally compromised."

"Of course I do, it had been noted and logged."

"But you said that I could have said nearly anything and it would have set you off. So I could be like, 'Hey Spocko, you're a long-faced, long-eared, green-blooded gangly scarecrow in a blue uniform,' I would have gotten a punch in the throat?"

The tiniest of twitches in his eyebrow. "No, of course not."

"No? Ah, but you just said…maybe it's something else. How bout if I called you a—"

"I do not wish to discuss it." Spock started walking towards the door, as if the mere action would change the subject. Their older selves were leaving the room. "In any case, I confess that it was the correct choice of actions and that it resulted in our ultimate success."

"Just like now. Here, I mean, with them."

Spock gave the slightest of sighs again. "At least, Captain, I know that if I were ever to lose my faculties again, for whatever reason, you are there to…remedy the situation. And I…do commend your courage in both instances. I could have easily killed you in either universe."

Commend his bravery? Back then, he was scared out of his mind—scared that earth was going to be sinking down an infinite well of space-time if they didn't beat Nero there in time, scared that Spock was indeed going to punch his lights out for good, petrified to be named Captain, being responsible for so many people's lives—heck, he was scared now, even here, in what was basically a dream, scared that he would go mad...

Though from what he had learned, seeing that other Jim…he was sure he was scared too. The pipe he had held in the beginning was useless—he was at the mercy of what may have been a homicidal Spock.

The memory was still intact, and was not fading yet, so they scurried after their alternate selves, who were in a hurry as they walked down the hallway.

"At least we don't have to worry about foot traffic," the older Kirk chuckled to himself.

"That is an optimistic way of looking at a ship that was the victim of mutiny, Captain."

Kirk stopped, a strange look on his face. Saddened. "For a moment there…when I was up here, all alone, and you all were down there, on the planet…when I didn't know what to do…before the spores got me, too…I thought what it would be like to be the last man on this ship. Marooned here."

"Did you…purposefully inhale the Spores?"

"No, Spock. Even at the prospect of that rather difficult fate, it was an accident. There was a plant up on the bridge I was near... Though now that I think about it, that truly would have been the only way out. Save another ship passing by, or a Starfleet rescue mission when they noticed we were missing…the thing was, even if I could be physically rescued, I would have lost all of you, if I didn't figure out a way to counteract the effects of the spores."

"We most certainly would have remained there the rest of our lives."

"Yes, I know," Kirk said. "And that would have been terrible."

Spock was quiet. The feeling of sadness was starting to rise.

"Yes. It would have been terrible."

Kirk seemed to snap out of his reverie. He jerked a thumb down the hallway. "Enough of this self-pity fest. We have a subsonic transmitter to build."

"Of course, Captain." Spock went on ahead, as the older Kirk winced and rubbed his shoulder when the Vulcan wasn't looking.

The memory was finally starting to fade.

The younger Kirk let out the breath that he had been holding—a figurative breath, since it wasn't like they were actually breathing here. Whatever had gone down on that planet below, with those wacky mind-controlling spores…that sounded awful. To be marooned up here, all by oneself. Even on a ship as lovely as the Enterprise…his friends would be trapped there.

Though he couldn't help but look at the older Spock walk away as the memory faded. He was so sad…the thought occurred to him that this very well might be one of the few times the Vulcan could truly and utterly be happy without his normal inhibitions. And he had just taken that happiness away from him.

"I'm sorry, Spock," he muttered under his breath. "But it wasn't real. I hope you got it again, someday. The real kind, that you earn."

* * *

I actually watched and compared the fights from Star Trek 09 and TOS "This Side of Paradise", since they were essentially the same situation, Kirk needing to fake-insult Spock to get him angry, and hopefully survive the fight afterwards. Also the scene in TOS "This Side of Paradise" where Kirk was all alone on the ship and commenting on how big the Enterprise seemed without everyone...it made me wonder, was the Enterprise special to him because of the ship itself, or the people that made up the Enterprise? Hmm...

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, faved, or followed this story! I've read every one of your reviews and I appreciate it very much. :3


	4. Getting Into Trouble

No tribbles were harmed in the making of this story, though some were sat on, accidentally. They're ok now.

* * *

There really was no way to prepare for seeing oneself stuck in a humungous pile of furry, chubby little round critters.

Tribbles. That's right, they were called tribbles.

This Kirk seemed quite young still, around the same age as he'd seen the last one, yet he had the feeling that this one's blood pressure was through the roof. The grimace on his face was some indication of the annoyance the man had…though in effect, it was pretty funny.

The other Spock and McCoy were now attempting to help the Captain out of the pile, probably without accidentally smushing the small animals.

"Careful now, Jim," McCoy moved some of the critters out of the way. "We'll have you out in a jiffy. But there's plenty of live ones still left here. Don't step on one."

"I would hope that you would be more concerned with my well-being than with these…tribbles," Kirk said, each word containing a gallon of vitriol.

"These creatures' lack of complex motor skills would make them unable to get out of the way if you did somehow accidentally fall, and your mass would crush them easily—"

Kirk gave him the most hideous of glares.

"Since they've eaten most of the grain, I suppose even the live ones are too full to get out of the way even if they could scoot around good," McCoy said in his dry voice, as he helped Spock move more of the tribbles. Kirk was now able to mostly move.

"I got it, I got it," he waved them away, and attempted to wade through the ocean of fur.

SQUEAK! SQUEAK! A few tribbles fell out of the pile.

"You are stepping on them!" McCoy said.

"I am not, I promise! They're gonna make noise anyway!"

"Are you sure you are not stepping on them, Captain? With a lack of visual reference, you may be disoriented as to the position of your legs within the pile—"

"I…am…not…stepping on...them," Kirk rubbed his temples, enunciating each word with a magnificent amount of control.

"I refuse to be stuck in this pile of furballs for longer than I have to."

"We're trying to dig you out, it'll be a minute or two!" McCoy doubled his speed in moving the tribbles out of the way. "We can't just toss them out like footballs!"

Kirk raised a finger and smiled hopefully. McCoy glared at him.

"Well, we can throw the dead ones—"

"Jim, that's horrible!"

"Actually I am attempting to sort the living and the dead to analyze the quadrotriticale poisoning, as we will eventually need to report the numbers to Starfleet in case of—"

"Can ya do that later, Spock? Huh? Can you? Please? I beg you—just…get them out of here," Kirk continued to dig in the pile of Tribbles around himself and toss them to McCoy.

"Of course, Captain," Spock said, continuing to help move the rest of the Tribbles.

The younger Kirk watched the scene unfold with much amusement. He turned to his companion next to him, who was watching with nary the hint of a smile.

"Oh, come on, Spock. This is hilarious. I mean…you gotta feel something, right?"

"Actually it seems quite tragic, many of those animals are dead from being poisoned, and you're stuck in the middle of that."

"That's kind of gross, now that you mention it, but there' s a reason this memory is here, right? I mean, I don't sense anything majorly sad or tragic with this memory. In fact it's almost…"

Amusing. Spock, this one here, at this time, thought the sight of the Captain stuck in a pile of Tribbles was…amusing.

Kirk gave his Spock a long sideways glance. "You…you thought it was funny."

"There are differences between…unusual situations and outright laughter. I am free to consider that certain events are more…absurd than others."

"Oh, admit it already. You think it's funny even now."

"Incongruity seems the basis for much of human humor. The sight of you, a starship Captain, buried up to his armpits in small furry aliens certainly falls within the definition of incongruence. "

"You're never going to admit to it, are you?" Kirk crossed his arms. "If I was in that situation, what would you do?"

"Exactly as my counterpart is doing at the moment. Assissting you," he paused. "And attempting to calculate the amount of poison that it took to ruin the quadrotriticale via the number of dead versus alive tribbles."

"Whatever. Then what do you explain this feeling in this memory?"

"Nostalgia. A warm feeling upon a previous time when he was content."

"I thought Vulcans don't do nostalgia."

"My elder self has embraced his human side. I believe he would subscribe to nostalgia, or at least a form of it."

"Or he thought it was funny."

Spock sighed. "Humor is difficult for Vulcans."

"Well, somebody thought somethin', cause we're here and we're looking at it!"

The other Kirk finally pushed away enough tribbles to make a pathway, and he carefully lifted one leg up and over the wall.

"Hey, give me a hand, here, McCoy—whoa!" he lost his balance and went flying back into the pile of tribbles.

SQUEEEEEEAKKK! Came the collective gasp of horror from the tribbles. McCoy and Spock yanked him back up.

"I didn't hurt 'em, did I?" was the first thing Kirk said when he found his balance again, and looked back worriedly.

"Accounting for your mass, and given the weight distribution amongst the pile along with the many dead tribbles, fortunately you did not hurt them. Though I believe you may have frightened a few, if that is possible."

McCoy and Kirk blinked at their friend, and then started laughing, heartily, more out of a relief of stress than anything. Spock just stared at them, quizzically.

"That is, assuming they have the neurological function of being able to feel fear, that may be something you can ask the Doctor in his studies of the creature—"

"Look, Spock, when you make a joke, you don't have to explain it," McCoy said. "Then it just dies."

"But Doctor, I did not make a joke."

"…I guess you wouldn't understand."

"And we don't expect you to," Kirk chuckled into his fist. "In any case, I hope I never have to see one of these furballs again. Come on, we've lingered here long enough. Let's go get that Cyrano Jones—"

And with that they left the pile of tribbles and a few annoyed-looking crewmen that had appeared to help clean up.

"Huh. Maybe it is nostalgia," the younger Kirk muttered, as the memory was beginning to fade. "That really was a random memory of no significance."

"It had significance," Spock said. "Did you not sense it? The feeling of contentment more than amusement. My alternate valued this memory."

"Valued? What for?"

"I cannot say. I can postulate, however. Perhaps this memory is a valued memory because simply, it is life as usual during the prime of the Enterprise, and he…for lack of a better term…missed that."

"Missed? Vulcans can miss things?"

"We place value on things and when those things are no longer there, of course, we would desire to return to that."

"What if he liked it because it was just an everyday memory? Maybe this _was_ an everyday memory. But I really hope not," Kirk looked nervously at the pile of tribbles. "Maybe being the Captain of the Enterprise is a lot more trouble than I bargained for."

* * *

My favorite part of this episode was the way that Captain Kirk was getting more and more annoyed. When he discovered that one tribble in his coffee, I thought he was going to lose it. Anyway it was great acting and this is one of my favorite episodes.

Thank you again for reading and especially to those who reviewed, followed, and favorited! :D


	5. Mad Memory

Several more memories passed by at a surprisingly rapid speed—as if they were just touched on by Spock's mind at the time, the barest inkling of a memory, in fact. Still, they were quite intact and detailed, though short. It was still somewhat overwhelming for Jim Kirk to view, however.

"Whoa—are you doing that, Spock?" he asked his First Officer as they popped in and out of a rather cheaply constructed version of the OK Corral, just in time to see their alternates wander around the strange, desert-like land, confused and bewildered.

Then they were in another scrub land, this time—amazingly enough, with Abraham Lincoln.

"Okay—you have got to hold onto this one—what the heck is _Lincoln _doing there?"

And the memory was ripped away again, and they were on the bridge of the Enterprise.

"I am not doing this, unfortunately—we seem to be stuck in a series of thin memories—the barest of thoughts that were transferred contained just enough to reference the scene, and not much else. Please, do not be alarmed—I am sure we will find a stable memory soon enough."

"I hope so," Kirk said, feeling a bit nauseous. "But I really want to know about some of these—did you see that one of me and you dressed like gangsters in what looked like New York in the 1920's? What is up with that?"

"I am curious about that as well. Unless time travel is involved, I cannot imagine any scenario that would be cause for me and you to be there. Well, there could be a scenario in which we were on an alien planet that may have, inexplicably, mimicked 1920's gangster culture—"

The scene shifted again and they were at a formal dinner on board the Enterprise. There was a beautiful woman sitting next to Spock, along with Scotty in a kilt, and everyone else in full dress uniform. Within a few minutes of listening to the conversation, the younger Spock grabbed Kirk and pulled him to the corner of the room.

"Spock, what are you doing!?"

"Whatever you do, do not look upon the Medusan—this memory is dangerous, if what I am assuming will happen next, will happen."

"Wait—what are you thinking will happen?"

"If I am correct, Vulcans are able, somewhat, to look upon this alien without going mad, if they wear a visor. Considering myself, I would definitely do this at some point, but remember—we are in a Vulcan memory. Visor or not, the memory of what that Medusan looks like exists as if we are looking upon it in reality—it may very well make _you _go mad."

Kirk made a face. "Well. That's just great. And let me guess? You can't fast forward this memory, either."

"If I could, I still would not. The memory needs to be resolved. You could be drifting off to sleep one night, and this memory could pop up, and you would see everything. It is best that I am here, just in case."

The memory shifted somewhat again, and Kirk hoped against hope that they would be out of it.

No such luck—they were on the bridge again this time, and that woman was still there. This time, there was a box and a partition where he assumed the Medusan was. The older Spock went over to the box.

"I believe I may be mind-melding with the Medusan, in order to join our minds," his own Spock said. "From what I hear some of the crewmembers say, the ship has somehow entered the galactic barrier or gone past it, and this ambassador is an excellent navigator and may be able to get the ship back to real space."

"Wait a second—how is this going to work? You said, mind-meld, right? We're in a mind-meld, about to view the memories of a guy in another mind-meld—"

Suddenly a foreign presence entered the scene—a serene, peaceful, and almost…beautiful feeling pervaded the memory.

"And I believe that would be the Medusan," Spock said, even his voice going a bit…cheerful. The older Spock himself was smiling, and greeting the crew in a charming manner. Kirk wasn't sure if he ought to laugh or be horrified. That, and the memory was starting to feel very strange indeed—he actually could feel the presence of another being along with them, even though he was only a mere observer. This…ambassador Kollos—the name just popped up in his mind automatically—was a very nice "person" indeed. But it was getting harder and harder to think—he was now dealing with two Spocks and a non-humanoid alien whose appearance made one go mad. He was starting to think like Kollos and Spock—wait…he couldn't lose himself.

"I…hope he gets through…with this rather quickly," Kirk managed to say, trying to concentrate. The multiple thought patterns were starting to become overwhelming again.

"He is almost done," Spock observed in that same, creepily cheerful voice.

The older Spock finished piloting the ship, much to the relief of the crew, and he returned to the partition to break the mind-link, apparently.

Suddenly a flash of fear—from the younger Spock-

"He's not wearing the visor!"

"What?"

Kirk, with dawning horror, realized what was about to happen. It wasn't going to matter if he looked or not—this Spock accidentally did and they were trapped in his memory.

Suddenly the memory turned—for a lack of a better world—insane. Colors, whirling lights, warped figures, the world turned upside-down and inside-out, with loud horns and earsplitting noise.

"Ahhhh!" both Kirk and Spock grabbed their heads, but it wasn't as if they could block the lights or the sound. It was within and without, everything and anything. Thoughts were impossible to string together—it was like a nightmare within a nightmare within a blender. And through it all, a horrible, unrelenting pull of sheer fear. The older Spock began attacking crewmembers—but Kirk didn't even notice, he was too busy being besieged by the madness that was flowing through them both.

"Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!"

And then it was gone. Then they were gone, too—into a void of nothingness—and yet, there was still someone there. A woman, a soft, warm healing presence, pulling them back from the brink of insanity, pulling them back from falling into the void. The woman that was with the Medusan was telepathic as well, and must have been healing Spock—because the next thing Kirk knew they were back in the transporter room, where his older self was giving the woman a flower.

It all happened so fast he wasn't sure what was going on—Spock's madness was still echoing in his mind, and he just…couldn't…think.

"Spock!" he yelled.

"I'm here, Captain," his First Officer's voice was haunted. He seemed to be…shaking. Wait—how could be be shaking in a memory? "Please do not distract me, because it is taking everything I have to keep us here."

Kirk could barely think to talk anyway. He felt too many people in his head—the woman, the alien—he forgot himself—he was losing himself in these memories. This felt more real than his life—this was everything, and out there, that reality wasn't real. This was real. He was falling into the pit—he was on the edge, hanging on with his fingers, feeling the pull of nothingness grab at his feet.

After a moment, Spock sighed, and the shaking dissipated. "I believe I have regained control. I have attempted to contain…the memory we just viewed in an attempt that it had no lasting, permanent…effects."

Colors—lights—the Medusan in the box—he was falling into the darkness—

"Captain?"

Spock grabbed his shoulders and stood him up.

"Captain, our minds are one—sense my calm aura and match it with your thoughts."

"I can't—" Kirk stammered. The images of the alien were too much. He was falling. "I can't—"

The memory was starting to buckle—they could feel themselves 'waking up'.

"Captain, if you don't listen to me, you really will go insane—I can heal the damage, but you must listen to me. Stay calm and follow my voice—stay away from those lights."

Somewhere, deep down, in his gritty heart of hearts, the stubborn mind of James T. Kirk would not let go.

"I…" he gritted his teeth, pulling back from the brink. He wasn't going to let go. He heard Spock's voice—a hint of reality in a maddening kalidescope.

"Captain!"

The urgency in Spock's tone was somehow just as frightening as the images before him.

"_Jim_!"

_That _got him out of it. With a gut-wrenching pull of strength, Kirk felt himself rise right out of the pit of madness, and he was suddenly back in Sick Bay.

Back in real life.

McCoy was there, looking as worried and angry as usual. Spock was sitting across from him, his hands lowering—they were shaking, his face a greenish pallor, but he was there, awake. Their faces were concerned—would they find a ruined mind?

"I'm okay…" Kirk said with a sigh of relief. "I'm okay."

"Well—I would say you are not, what with all that going on!" McCoy jabbed a finger up to the display of vital signs up on the screen above them. "I thought you were both going to have a stroke. Jim, your blood pressure was 190 over—"

"Are you okay, Spock?" Kirk asked him.

"I will be after some rest," Spock said a-matter-of-factly. It was a bit of a surprise, knowing now what went on behind that blank wall of his. That the Vulcan actually did have feelings—that he actually did care.

Kirk remembered how much like the old Spock this one sounded, just for a moment there, when he yelled "Jim!"

Maybe they would be friends after all.

Kirk gingerly got up from the bed—until McCoy practically tossed him back in.

"Oh no, you don't. Not after that. You're off duty and under observation until this time tomorrow—"

"A whole day? Forget it, Bones—"

"Do you want me to pull _my _rank? Because I will."

"Fine. But only half-a-day."

Bones sighed. Spock slowly got up. "I will retire in my quarters, Doctor. You may check on me every three hours, but I do not believe I will need observation as the Captain does."

A rest sounded great. But Kirk remembered he had to do something first.

"Hey Spock?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"…thanks."

Spock gave him his normal look, but somehow, he knew that inside, he was smiling.

Maybe.

"Have a good night, Captain."

A good night's sleep sounded great. With that, Jim stretched out in the bed, and was passed out in a second, flat. It would be good to finally get some sleep, without worrying about nobody's memories or mind-melds or any of that crazy stuff. No more nightmares.

Or so he thought.

Three hours later, Kirk woke up in a cold sweat, yelling out.

Bones came running in from an anterior room. "Jim! You okay?"

Kirk was still breathing hard, and he wiped his forehead. It was sopping wet. "I thought we'd fixed it!"

"It was probably just leftovers—go back to sleep."

"Are you sure?"

The look on Bones face told him he wasn't.

"You were yelling something," the Doctor said.

Kirk was almost afraid to ask.

"What was it?"

"I don't know. But it sounded like... 'Khan'."

* * *

Guess we're going to have to go into another Mind-Meld and see who this Khan person is! :D Poor Kirk. It's not over yet!


	6. Human

Kirk sat in Sick Bay, staring at the wall, for quite some time. He wouldn't admit to himself that he was actually afraid to go back to sleep. But that's what it was. He was dead tired, but he didn't dare close his eyes.

"Don't be stupid," he muttered to himself. "It's just dreams. Spock fixed it. You're cured. Don't think about it."

And yet the moment his mind started to slip, to wander, to fall asleep—a kaledescope of colors, a memory of the madness that almost consumed them both.

And beneath that, a name.

He jerked awake for the hundredth time again, having nodded off for a nanosecond.

McCoy wandered in on his rounds, Nurse Chapel trailing him. They stayed off to the side, near the door, and whispered in low voices.

"I know you're talking about me," Kirk gave a wan half-smile. "You might as well say it to my face."

Chapel jumped, but McCoy just rolled his eyes. "Not everything is about you, Jim. There _are _other patients here."

Oh. Well. That was true, too. Feeling his ego deflate a bit, Kirk decided he would be better served in going for a bit of a walk. Perhaps if he burned off some physical energy, he would be just as tired as his mind was and he would simply fall asleep in his dreams. A ridiculous notion, but right now anything seemed better than sitting here doing nothing.

"And just where do you think you're going?" McCoy immediately appeared next to the bed as soon as Kirk's feet touched the ground.

"Relax, Bones. I'm not going to the bridge, I just need to walk around."

"You need to get back in bed. I can give you something if you want—"

Kirk shook his head. "Really. I'm fine."

McCoy looked at Chapel, who was busying herself with files on the computer. Then he turned to Kirk. "You're not. I did another scan while you were sleeping. It's getting worse, Jim."

A sinking feeling in his gut. "What…do you mean, worse?"

"I mean, whatever that crazy Vulcan super power did, it made it worse."

"It didn't make it worse, he helped me sort through all those random leftover memories, and we're good to go now."

"Then it didn't work! I'm not letting you out of here, because you really could start having seizures. In fact, I'd expect it in a couple of hours or so."

A couple hours or so!?

"Can't you do anything?" Kirk demanded. He hated whenever he got sick, it bothered him that something so small could have so much control over him. He didn't like it when he didn't have control, which was why the mind-meld and the memories were so daunting—he'd only done it because there was no other choice. Look, he'd nearly gone mad because of it.

McCoy looked like he was trying to think of another way to say it, but couldn't. He seemed angry, but probably with himself.

"I'm sorry…I can't Jim. There isn't anything else that I can do except treat the symptoms if they appear."

Kirk held his breath. "Then what?"

McCoy shrugged. Kirk didn't like the sound of that.

"There has to be a solution," Kirk refused to give up. "Maybe we can find the other Spock. It was his fault, anyway. I'm sure he can fix it—"

"I'm not letting you go through another mind-meld, Jim, not with the kind of results I'm seeing on the scans here! You could do real damage—real, permanent damage. You just got your commission as a Captain—"

"Which isn't going to matter if I lose my mind!" Kirk snapped at him.

"I'm really sorry, Jim. I am. I'm gonna do everything in my power to fix this. But I'm not going to give you false hope, either."

"That's worse than if it was going to just outright kill me," Kirk muttered, filled with the urge to do…something. Anything. Not sit here and accept his fate. To finally have his own ship, the Enterprise, then have it all ripped away, by what? For what?

Spock?

"Ironically, it won't kill you," McCoy echoed. "But—"

"Have Uhura patch me through here, and get the Vulcan colony—I want to talk to Spock. The old Spock," Kirk said suddenly, an idea forming. If anyone knew what to do, it would be him.

Suddenly the door to the Sick Bay opened and Spock—their Spock, walked in. He looked drained, which was saying something, for him. "There is no need, I have just spoken to him."

Kirk and McCoy stared as he entered, both surprised to see him.

"Now that's a coincidence!"

"Actually it is not, Doctor. The Captain and myself will have similar thought echoes for some time, as a side-effect from sharing thoughts for an extended period of time," he turned to Kirk.

"I spoke to him about the images we have been seeing. He is insistent that we complete the process…though conversely, there is another option."

"Another…option?"

"I will erase your memories. Unfortunately they are quite intertwined into your subconscious from being left alone for several weeks, so I am afraid that you will lose everything up to that point."

Kirk held up a hand. "Wait—lose…everything up to _what _point? When I met him the first time?"

"Yes."

McCoy jumped in the middle of the conversation. "Wait a blasted second here—I am not letting you put this man under that kind of mental duress again, after what I've seen—"

Spock ignored him and continued. "He has experienced a similar cure. The insanity-inducing memory of the Medusan was actually removed by Miranda Jones, the woman telepath we encountered, which was how he was healed from the temporary insanity that we witnessed."

"So if it was removed, then why did we see it?" Kirk asked, his patience wearing thin with every word.

"Because apparently she was not as skilled as Vulcans when it comes to these…processes. She merely hid the memory, made my counterpart unable to access it. The pathways that housed the memory were rerouted. Unfortunately, it still existed, and since we are not my counterpart, we were able to view it. He is deeply apologetic about this, it was certainly not something he meant to do."

"No, really? You think?" Kirk said, knowing the sarcasm would be lost on the Vulcan.

"But he did mean to give us those memories."

"So we were right! He did do it on purpose!"

"Yes, in a way. He meant to leave a sense of your counterpart behind. He wanted you to know what that Kirk was like, and he wanted you to know what their friendship was like, in hope that we would share a similar camaraderie. However, the events of the day had lowered his emotional control and he was unable to halt the excess flow of emotionally-charged memories into the mind-meld."

"So he did mess up. He messed up on purpose. Great." Kirk shook his head. "And the only way to fix it, is…"

"Is to finish resolving the memories or to completely remove them."

The latter part was out of the question. Tempting, but out of the question.

"Does anyone ever listen to the Doctor anymore? I told you, both of you, he can't take another episode like that. I don't care if you got an extra level-up to your spiffy superpowers, Spock, he's going to—"

"I'm doing it, Bones," Kirk said, determinedly. "I'll take the risk. I'm not wiping my memory of the past month. Not after all that's happened."

"My counterpart agreed. He is afraid that without the significant event that caused you to become Captain of the Enterprise, in your life, we will never become…" Spock seemed to have a bit of a hard time saying this. "Good friends."

Good friends. He was getting tired of constantly hearing about this. Was this or any friendship really worth all the trouble? All the danger?

It didn't matter. He wanted out of this situation and if he had to go through another mind-meld, so be it.

"Just…get on with it, Spock," Kirk said, his voice weary. "Let's get this over with."

***

The mind-meld felt different this time. It seemed darker, a little less precise, if that meant anything. Almost as if the memory had become damaged, somehow, or repaired. Kirk couldn't explain it, but that's just what it felt like. Perhaps Spock was having a hard time, too. They'd gone through a lot in the past couple of hours. They'd gone through a person's lifetime—that had to wear them both down.

"I sense the strangeness of this memory too, Captain," Spock said, as if he was reading his mind.

That was stupid—he _was _in his mind.

"We're…where are we?"

"My quarters, from the looks of it," Spock noted. "And there I am, meditating. And there you are."

The older Kirk came in and began asking Spock about letting him have the Captain's chair. Spock refused, citing the fact that he was the superior officer, and that he had no ego to bruise should he be second in command. It wasn't very long before the younger one figured out what was going on.

"I made _Admiral_? That is…something, isn't it?" he gave a great big grin to the Vulcan next to him.

"Congratulations."

"You must be tired, if you're making jokes—"

"That was not a joke. I truly mean it. Let us hope we get through this so you really can make Admiral someday."

"Wait—wait—what did that Spock just say?"

They froze. The older Kirk smiled and left the room.

"I believe he just said…'You are also my friend. I have been and always shall be yours.'"

There was silence between the two for a moment.

Then Kirk gave him a sidelong glance. "I seem to remember the last time I wrested command of the Enterprise from you…you weren't this nice."

"That's only because we did not know each other yet, Captain," Spock said with what seemed like a lighthearted tone.

The memory changed again—and they were on the bridge, looking at the face of a man in what could only be described as almost…piratical clothing.

It was a second before Kirk realized, from listening, who this person was.

"Khan…"

"You know him?" Spock raised an eyebrow.

Kirk shook his head. "No, I've never seen him before in my life. But McCoy said I was yelling his name in a nightmare."

Spock looked very concerned. "Yelling?"

"Yeah, you know. People do that in bad dreams."

"But that is illogical—your memories of this person are memories from my alternate. Therefore what we experience is what he experiences—and I do not yell."

"So what are you saying?"

Spock crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Nothing, yet, Captain. I must observe a little more to make a conclusion. This memory seems quite strong and stable—we may be here awhile."

Kirk watched as his older self deftly and swiftly tricked Khan by inputting codes into the computer to get the Reliant to drop its shields. But the damage had been done to the Enterprise. They were limping along worse than the pirate ship. He studied the image of the man while he was on screen. Such…hatred boiled through time and space through those dark eyes.

What could he have possibly done to deserve such an enemy?

He smirked inwardly. Then again, he was talking about himself. He didn't exactly make many friends, wherever he went.

Which was why his friends on the Enterprise were so dear to him.

"Captain…"

Khan's voice said behind them. Kirk turned around—the bridge was empty.

"Captain Kirk. Note that I did not say…Admiral."

Kirk's eyes widened—was Khan talking to _him_?

"Yes, my dear Captain Kirk, I am talking to you. And your friend, Spock—you two really never leave each others' side, do you?"

"Spock…how is this possible?" Kirk said.

"I do not know. It should not be possible," Spock said, the slightest hint of concern on his voice.

"Oh, now, that is no way to treat an old friend, hmm? After all we've been through together. It is nice to see you again!"

"This is a hallucination—a dream, or something," Kirk said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"My hypothesis as well. Perhaps you are experiencing some kind of mental instability—"

"Oh, great."

"An old friend, and he calls me a mental instability. No, I am very much here, and I am very much real. Yes, I will die in the next few memories you will witness, but right now, I am alive, just as alive as you are—for I exist in this universe, too."

"He's—" Kirk looked around at the empty bridge. "You're hijacking this memory—this shouldn't be possible!"

Spock looked down at his shoes, then looked up again. "You are not real, sir. You are fear itself, derived from a combination of experiences from my alternate self, the alternate James Kirk."

"Fear itself? I am flattered by your description. But I can assure you, mental image or not, hallucination or not, I am all too real." Khan smiled, and nodded to someone on his bridge.

The ship shuddered—they were being fired upon! Instinctively, Spock went over to the computer at the science station. Kirk stumbled backwards, and sat in the Captain's chair. Suddenly everyone was back—Uhura—Sulu—everyone, even Chekov.

"Shields are holding at 25 %," Spock said from his station.

Kirk looked around for their alternates—but they weren't there. It was if they were playing their parts, somehow.

"Captain?" Sulu turned to look at him.

Fake or not, this was a situation and they had to deal with it. He glanced at Spock, who gave a nod.

Fine, they'd play this game for now, until they figured out what was going on.

He snapped his fingers at the button on the console to call engineering, like he'd done a thousand times before. "Scotty, what can you give me?"

"A few shots, Captain, and that's all. We can't take another hit like that!" the thick Scottish accent filtered through the staticky connection.

"I wonder Captain, if you were to die in this…dream, this memory, would you die in real life?" Khan said, smiling. "For it would be satisfying if you did."

Kirk stood up. "I didn't do anything to you! I don't even know who you are!"

Khan seemed to be delighted by this. "You do not even know me yet, Captain, and you fear me. I do not even exist for you yet, and you are frightened. Does my memory precede me so? I shall be quite ecstatic when I meet you in person in this universe. I'm sure our fight will be renowned."

"Spock, what are we dealing with here?"

"He's right, Captain—we are dealing with a memory that has latched onto your fears and become, in effect, real to you."

Kirk looked back at him. "He's not real!"

"No, he is not. But you are making him real with the thoughts you are experiencing. If you calm yourself, perhaps he will disappear."

Kirk turned completely around. "Why am I afraid of him, Spock? I've never met him before. I shouldn't be. You aren't afraid of him, and neither is your alternate—I don't sense any excess fear except my own."

"That…I do not know, Captain. Something this person did to you in the other universe must be so ingrained in my alternate's memory, that you are experiencing it as your alternate did. But it is strong enough that it is creating this false memory."

"False memory? I am insulted. Perhaps this will show you how…false, I am."

"Incoming phaser fire, everyone brace yourselves—" Sulu yelled just as the ship rocketed again. Panels blew out, people went flying. Smoke, everywhere. Yells of pain and crying out for help. People were actually dying around them.

"Kobayashi Maru…" Kirk muttered.

"What?" Sulu managed to scramble back on his seat.

"Kobayashi Maru. That's what this is. An unwinnable situation where the only outcome is death," Kirk slowly sat back down in his seat. "But I don't believe in the no-win scenario."

"Our shields are at 2 %, Captain!" Checkov shouted over the din of sparks and machinery failing. "I think dis is a no-win scenario!"

"Khan," Kirk laid back in his chair, almost lazily. "We're at your mercy. We've been at your mercy. Why haven't you just killed us yet?"

"Because I want you to suffer, Captain. Suffer like you have made me suffer, when you left me on Ceti Alpha—"

"Well, I am really sorry about that, but you know, you kind of deserved it," Kirk went on.

"Captain…" Spock said.

"Deserved it?" Khan started turning a bit red. "You all would have bowed to my will were this the twentieth century and—"

"Well, this isn't the twentieth century, old buddy. Stop being old fashioned."

Khan looked like he was going to blow a gasket. "Fire!"

"We're being fired upon, Captain," Sulu said, his voice, defeated. They could not survive another hit, especially to the engines.

"No, we're not," Kirk said, with a grin.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Because those red blips on the computer are nothing?" Sulu asked incredulously.

"Yep."

They waited for the hit—but it never came. The ship stayed still and smooth, save for the smoking and sparking of the panels, and the few groans of the injured.

"We weren't hit," Sulu said, in amazement.

"Yep, because we never were. Or you guys never were. This memory, whatever this is, is being hijacked by my fear of a guy I never met. You there," he pointed at Khan. "This isn't real, and I refuse to believe in it. Therefore, you can't hurt me if this isn't really happening."

Khan, instead of turning angry, smiled. "Very good, Captain. Very good, indeed. I look forward to our meeting in real life. But let me leave you with something that may haunt you the rest of your days. And then you will know how real this was."

Spock stood up, tense. Khan motioned his hand. "Not you, Spock. This isn't something that you can see…or could see. Nor should you. This one is for our good Captain."

Suddenly Kirk's eyes glazed over, and Spock ran over to him. The bridge was empty again—suddenly Kirk cried out, as if he was seeing something that wasn't there.

"No!"

And then—the screen was empty and blank. Khan wasn't there anymore.

But Kirk looked ashen and haunted—he reached out to steady himself, and Spock caught him before he fell to the ground. Then he looked at Spock, and surprisingly, grasped his shoulder as if to make sure he was real.

"What did you see?" Spock demanded.

Kirk shook his head. "I don't know how he managed to do that. There…should be no way for that memory to be in here. Impossible."

"Improbable."

"No. I'm not kidding. It's impossible. You…weren't…I mean, you had to…I don't know how he…then I stole the Enterprise and then…you were back, and McCoy was too…" Kirk shuddered. "I don't know how he did that—you couldn't have had those memories. Not possible. Not when you were…"

"I was…what?"

"Could there be a way for another person to possibly, I don't know, hijack a mind-meld?"

"No, unless they are physically present. Unless someone left a series of memories for us to find."

"I think someone did," Kirk said, finally realizing it. That's why he was able to sit in the Captain's chair. "I think I know exactly who left those memories in here."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "There would be no way of him knowing that they would be needed in the future, considering that he died many years before my alternate even became interested in the Romulan Unification."

"No, not for me. For you…" Kirk said, slowly. "He wanted your alternate to know what happened when…anyway, I think that's why Khan seemed so real. And the other Spock knew that these memories were in here, and he wanted me to see them."

"But only you. Which is also impossible, considering we are in a mind meld and sharing thoughts, and I should be able to access them."

"And I guess you could, now that I think about it. But you really shouldn't. It's something that no one should have to see…"

"I am a Vulcan. Very little disturbs me."

"Trust me. This will disturb you. And I think it might mess with the space-time continuum, considering."

Spock raised both eyebrows. "I can assure you that the universe would have ended already, with all the rules that we have been breaking in here."

"Fine. You know what? Fine, but if you get nightmares, don't come complaining to me."

Suddenly the memory changed, and they were in the engineering room. Scotty and McCoy were slumped against the window, as the alternate Kirk came flying down the ladder. He ran to the chamber in the center of engineering, but was held back by both Scotty, McCoy, and another man. Kirk protested against their struggles.

The younger Kirk looked at Spock, who was watching intently.

"You really shouldn't see this. It'll mess with your head forever. I wouldn't want to see…you know. Mine."

"Actually…I believe that I should," Spock said in a low, calm voice. Kirk could tell it was bothering him, even though he kept his face impassive.

"Then you do it alone," Kirk said, his own voice low, and he turned around. "Because I can't see it a second time."

Spock looked at him, curious. "Obviously he survived—"

"He didn't know that then," Kirk turned around and jabbed a finger at his alternate, whose face was wracked with sorrow. He pressed his hand against the glass, as the other Spock pressed his. "That, is what we're like, even at the end, Spock. That is what he wanted to show us—both of them, both that Kirk, and that Spock. That's what we're supposed to be. That's what they want for us. That's what friendship is."

"I know."

His Spock turned to look at him. He gave the slightest hint of a smile. "I hope that we can be friends…Jim."

The memory was shifting away again. They could feel the tug of another one about to appear.

"You don't suppose that Khan is going to show up again, do you?"

"It depends on you, Captain. You made him real from your alternate's memories. Whoever he was, he must have had a large impact on his psyche. I assume from the…event we just witnessed, that he must have blamed this Khan for it."

"So you're saying that he might come back and try and hijack another memory?"

"I cannot say. But we must tread carefully through the rest of them, and be on watch."

* * *

Yeah, Wrath of Khan is my favorite Trek movie (that and IV with the whales. XD). Every time I watch the last scene with Spock and Kirk...it's sooo good. Sooooo sad. But so good. Brilliant acting and writing. During the part where Kirk says that his was the most human...that's it for me! TTATT /cry


	7. Alone

It was a bit of a surprise to end up on earth. At least, it looked like earth. Kirk couldn't be sure. He was expecting quite anything by now. If they'd ended up upside down walking on ice-cream mountains dripping from the sky, he wouldn't give it a second glance.

"I'd place this at late twentieth-century earth. San Francisco, to be precise."

An audible sigh. "Just exactly how _much _time travel did we encounter in our lives?"

"Inferring from the memories we viewed already, I can postulate that we have traveled back in time approxima—"

"It was a rhetorical question, Spock. I know the answer. A lot. I'm surprised that some kind of future-time-police haven't stopped us yet," Kirk looked around, as if expecting to see one .

"Ah. There we are."

Spock pointed to a group of awkward-looking people in red uniforms, wandering around, trying to fit in but looking terribly out of place.

"Er…that is kind of embarrassing," Kirk winced. His other self had the same expression on his face, and seemed to be trying to distance himself from the group. He waved them off, and they split up. The older Kirk and Spock attempted to get on a bus.

"Should we follow 'em?"

"It would seem."

Unfortunately as soon as they got on the bus, the older Kirk and Spock got off, and the bus sped off.

"Buncha crazy outta towners, don't even know how to ride a bus," muttered the bus driver.

"Uh…should this be happening?" Kirk watched themselves disappear down the hilly road.

"No, we cannot put any kind of distance between us and them, and by cannot, I mean that this is impossible."

"Impropable," said a voice that was masked in a smirk, next to them.

"You again!"

He couldn't believe it. The old pirate was there—Khan himself, sitting on the bus like it was a normal Tuesday. He was still clad in his mishmashed uniform, but somehow, this didn't draw any kind of attention amongst the crowded bus. Kirk wasn't even sure if the other people could even see him.

"Surely you can greet me better than that. You were never impolite to me, Captain."

Kirk and Spock exchanged confused—as confused as a Vulcan can get—looks.

"Please, do sit down," Khan offered the empty seats in front of them. "Obviously you can surmise that you aren't going anywhere unless I want you to."

Kirk gingerly took his seat, hating the feeling of being trapped. Spock was as impassive as ever.

"Okay, Khan. What's this all about?"

"I think your friend would like to speak. I'm sure he's figured it out already."

"If I may postulate, Captain. This cannot be Khan."

The man across from them smiled. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm standing before you."

"I am never ridiculous, sir. I'm merely using simple logic. This event did not happen, as obviously our counterparts are not here. You are either a construct of imagination from a taxed and fevered mind, or…"

"Or…" Khan smiled.

"Or you are something else entirely."

Something else? Kirk did not like the sound of that. But Spock was making sense. This was more than just a weird memory that decided to grow a little personality. In fact…it would actually make the most sense, for this whole madcap adventure to have been originiated by something…or someone. But who could possibly do something like this? He racked his mind of all the aliens that he knew that could possibly have the mind-techniques and control that could do this.

"Something else or not, it doesn't matter," Kirk said, slowly, eying what would be his mortal enemy someday. He still felt that terrible anger that came from nowhere whenever he looked upon him. But was it misplaced?

"The question isn't what. Or even who. The question is why?"

Khan smiled greatly. "That is why I like you, James T. Kirk. You aren't that unlike your counterpart, after all. In fact, I think it would be amusing if you two met each other. What do you think of that?"

"I don't think I have a choice."

"And yet, I'm sure you will enjoy this."

There was a flash of light, and the first thing he noticed was the sweet, sharp smell of pine needles, and fresh loam from a well-worn forest trail. He blinked, and realized that he'd been dropped off in a forest—north American earth, from the looks of it—and someone was coming. The familiar rhythmic beat of horses' hooves was getting louder.

"Whoa there! Get out of the way, kid!" All of a sudden the rider and the horse had leapt over a rise and it was only by the quickest gathering of his wits was Kirk able to dive out of the way in time. Unfortunately this left no room for aiming and he was now in a lovely pile of dirt and loam.

"You okay?" the rider yanked on the horse's reins, and turned him around. He shook his head. "You shouldn't be standing in the middle of the path like that." He looked around. "We're miles out from the nearest town. You a hiker, down for the weekend? Or do you live here?"

"Uh…" Kirk wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure what to do. He was talking to himself—the older version, but still. This was too weird. What would Spock say-

"Spock!" Kirk suddenly jerked out of the loam. His friend wasn't there—he was alone.

His older self turned pale. "What did you say?"

Oh great—was he supposed to keep this a secret? That Khan—or whoever he was—didn't exactly mention any rules. And he highly doubted that it would break the space-time continuum. But there was a sort of curiosity that made him decide to see what it would be like talking to himself, without him knowing it was…well, him. His head hurt.

"My dog—" he quickly interjected. "Spike. He ran off and I went looking for him."

Sorry, Spock. It was the best he could think of right now.

The older Kirk turned the horse around, looking down the path at the hills below. "Haven't seen or heard any dog around here. Need some help looking for him?"

"Uh…yeah. That would be great. If it's not too much out of your way."

"Nah," the other Kirk jumped off his horse, surprisingly spry for his age. "I don't mind. It's been really lonely around these parts. A lot of people moved away. Me and Antonia don't have a lot of people to talk to. But we're not hermits or anything. I'm not that old yet," he smirked. Such a familiar look on a familiar face. "I don't mind the company."

He offered a hand and helped Kirk up out of the loam.

"Uh…thanks," he brushed off the dirt. It felt so real. Whatever this…Khan…did, he was interacting, he was here—this was no longer a mind meld. A pang of worry for Spock. Where was he, exactly? What would this do to him, if they were still connected? Maybe he was watching. That thought brightened him up. Then again, Khan could be too. But somehow if Spock was still here, he wouldn't be alone.

The other Kirk was patting down the chocolate brown horse. Whatever this place was, he seemed eager to have company.

And it wasn't every day you get to talk to yourself and have them answer back…independently, anyway.

* * *

Can you guess who exactly this "Khan" is? I'm sure you have an idea already. Let's just say that it's a...question that will be answered soon!


	8. James

So these were the facts.

One, he was walking with an older version of himself in the backwoods of North America somewhere.  
Two, apparently he was in the presence of some kind of alien entity with the power to pretend it was a mortal enemy from another universe. Spock was nowhere to be found.  
And three, he had no idea how to get back home, or even back to what he thought had been a mind-meld.

It was strange, in an ego-centric sort of way, how he seemed to like his older self. He had a sort of easy-going way about him. If he had to grow up…he wouldn't mind being this guy.

"So I usually ride out to the edge of the land every other day, just to check on things," he rambled on, leading his horse on through the wooded path. "So how about you? What do you do?"

Somehow Khan must have arranged it so that he wouldn't be recognized. Or maybe this Kirk was so far removed from his youth he didn't recognize himself. Or wouldn't allow himself to. In any case, the younger decided to go with it.

"Oh, I'm in Starfleet."

"Really? Get out while you still can!" the elder jostled his elbow at him. "Nah, I'm just kiddin'. You'll love it. Especially at your age. Get to space and stay there, and don't let them convince you otherwise. Get out there."

The wistful tone was catching. "That's what I'm tryin' to do."

"I let them take my ship from me," he trailed off, staring into the distance. "I let them take it, and let myself get a 'cushy' day job. Paperwork. A chair. Trust me, kid, it's the worst thing they can do to guys like you and me."

"You were a Captain."

"Make sure you disobey orders so often they'll never make you Admiral," he said with that familiar roguish grin. "Nothing too dangerous to your crew or anyone else, of course—just be a pain to them so that they're happier with you out in space. They'll never invite you to any of their dreadful boring barbeque picnics, either."

Kirk laughed—he'd actually been to one in the academy. It was dreadfully boring—nothing but a schmoozing opportunity for sycophants, on an uncomfortably chilly spring San Francisco day.

"So you wanna be a Captain too, kid?"

"I am a Captain."

"Captain of what?" That got a great big laugh, big enough that it spooked the horse a bit. The elder Kirk patted the horse in apology. "Sorry, but you can't be more than, what…27? I was the youngest to be given the rank of Captain and I think I would have heard if my record had been broken."

"Well, maybe word doesn't reach this far out in the sticks."

His new friend looked apologetic. "That and I told them to only contact me in case of some dire emergency. What'd they put you in charge of? A garbage scow?"

Well…

"Not exactly." Should he go for it? He glanced out at the wooded path, which was opening up to a grassy meadow. There was a beautiful view of green hills below them. No sign of any activity other than what normally should be there. If something was going to happen…it would happen because of this. He was sure Khan was watching. "I'm Captain of the Enterprise."

The older Kirk stopped dead in his tracks.

"What? You're kidding."

"Nope. I am."

Some spark of recognition seemed to dawn in his counterpart's face. He'd obviously been in enough adventures and had a big enough imagination to not discount the impossible. Or the impropable.

"You're…what did you say your name was again?"

Might as well throw in the towel. "I think you know what my name is."

Somehow, a smile wasn't quite the reaction he had expected.

"This is a joke, right? Bones put you up to this."

"Well, it wasn't Spock, I can assure you."

"Ah. Your _dog_. He would be insulted. If he could be insulted, that is." The elder Kirk walked around him in a circle. "I don't quite understand how, but then again, I didn't recognize you right away. I really do need my eyes checked again…or should I say, _you _should eat your carrots, kid?"

Well. He was taking this quite well. Or he didn't believe. It didn't really matter. "You don't seem that surprised."

"When you've seen as much as I have, out there, you kind of expect these things to happen. Though I obviously don't remember this happening, so either it gets erased somehow in the future, or…"

"Or…what?"

"Or you're not me. You're from an alternate universe."

"That's what I've heard," he crossed his arms. "Though from my point of view, _you_'re the other me."

"I was here first," that same grin. "Does your Spock have a beard?"

"What? No! What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just checking." Strangely enough, his elder self seemed to relax a bit. "Your world doesn't sound too different from mine. Except for the ridiculous fact they make 27-year-olds Captains…sheesh."

"Your Spock is stuck in our universe," Kirk blurted out. Somehow…he had to let him know.

"What?"

"Your Spock…from your universe. He's trapped with us. I mean he's fine, and he's alive and healthy, but there's no way—I mean, unless I figure out how I got here and replicate it—there's no way that he can get back."

Somehow, all the mirth, youthfulness and energy seemed to evaporate from Kirk's face. He seemed older, by at least ten years. "He's…he's gone?"

The change was shocking. "He's alive, I just said—"

"There's got to be a way to get him back," he was suddenly in the other Kirk's face. "How'd he get there in the first place? I'm sure he can figure it out—he always has—"

"But this time he can't…it was a black hole. He already tried the calculations…there's no way to figure out the exact same set of circumstances to bring him back. And he told me…he explained that he'd actually traveled back in time, first—and the presence of the Romulan ship that came with him split the time-stream there."

The older Kirk couldln't seem to find the strength to stand up—and he half-collapsed on a fallen log, his fingers trailing through the horse's reigns. "I know what that means…and you're right. He can't come back."

"But that's way in your future, I'm sure." The younger Kirk wasn't sure, but he was extrapolating from what he knew about the older Spock's age. "I mean, he was working towards Romulan and Vulcan unification. That hasn't happened yet, right?"

"Well…I've heard things…" Kirk shrugged, still looking dejected and pale. "They're starting talks…"

"Look, I'm sure he's still got plenty of years left in this place."

That got a glare. "When you're my age, kid, you'll understand."

Did Spock really mean so much to him? This Kirk had already lost his friend once. And now he'd just told him he'd lose him again.

The younger one sat down on the log. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have told you. Nobody should know those things…this is why time travel sucks."

"It's not your fault…heck, the timeline could correct itself somehow and we'll never meet, and I'll never remember. And you're right, it's probably in the far future. I'm sure."

They were both silent for a moment. The sound of the forest seemed to engulf the emptiness in front of them.

"I hated him," the younger one blurted out. "I really did. And then everything changed when your Spock came and told me that he would be the best friend I ever had. I mean…how can you even comprehend that? How can anyone?"

"Believe it or not, I hated him too…when I first met him."

"I suppose you never told him that."

"Oh I did. You think it bothered him?"

"Nope," the younger one had to laugh.

"Of course it didn't. I mean, Bones was my friend from even before—I'm assuming yours too? Well before long it was just always the three of us—Bones didn't take too kindly to him at first either. It's hard to, sometimes, with Vulcans, Bones hated how cold he could be even though we needed someone with that kind of opinion on the ship…but you don't realize that even though he'll never say what he truly feels, you'll never find an officer more loyal, or brave, or kind…" Kirk trailed off. "It was always Bones, me, and Spock. And now…it's just me. I always said I'll die alone."

"If it helps, I'm here," the younger Kirk said with a wry smile, trying to get the older man out of his nostalgic revierie.

"Does that still technically count as being alone?" his counterpart couldn't help but smile, too.

"So how did you get here, anyway?"

"Believe it or not…it was Khan."

With the mention of the name Khan, something changed in his counterpart's face. Instead of the easy-going cool guy, the hardened, tough commander. Something in his eyes, something concrete, that was used to being responsible for the lives of 400 crewmembers for years on end. The responsibility that scared he himself so badly—something he'd never admit to anyone.

Not even himself.

And suddenly, right on cue, Khan appeared. The older Kirk jumped up immediately, his horse rearing up with nervousness.

"That's not Khan."

"How'd you know?"

"Believe me. It's not."

'Khan' smiled, and bowed. "My dear Captains. Captains, is that the right term? Captains Kirks? This has been a touching reunion. Truly, it's made me feel the barest hint of melodrama right in the pit of my little black heart. But time is short, as the saying goes, and we must be off to our next act in this little play. I'm sure you're not ready, but off we go!"

And with that—everything disappeared into a flash of white again.

* * *

Keep guessing, and keep asking...Questions! :D In any case, I couldn't resist having Kirk have a conversation with himself. It's only right, since Spock and Spock had a conversation in the movie. Just being fair. *nods*


	9. Best of Times

They were all standing on the bridge of the Enterprise—his Enterprise. It was a little shocking, after all he'd seen of the past and future, to be back…back home.

Spock was there, and from the ever-so-slightly surprised look on his face, he had not been expecting this. He was standing just off to the side of the chair. Kirk realized that he was sitting quite normally in the Captain's seat, and that everyone was at their stations, performing normal duties. According to the viewscreen, they were on their way to their next destination, if he remembered correctly…

"Is this real?" he said, in a low voice, as not to attract attention to themselves.

"It may take a moment to ascertain, but as for now I suggest we proceed as if it is, and any deviance from such will make itself obvious soon."

"Fair enough," Kirk said, raising his head just a tad. It was a rather long-winded way of saying 'go with it'. "Mr. Sulu, what's our ETA to the Hath'an system?"

"Approximately five-and-a-half hours, Captain."

"Care to make it four?"

"Aye, Captain, I'll do my best," Sulu smirked, turning around in his chair. "Trying to give Scotty another ulcer?"

"I like to give him little challenges. It makes him happy," Kirk said, without missing a beat.

Spock was walking as casually as possible—for him—around the bridge, observing everything. He came back after a minute, speaking in a low voice as well.

"Everything seems normal, Captain. I don't see anything that diverges from our normal perception of reality. However, the being that calls himself Khan would most likely be able to change our perception of reality quite easily, so there is no reason yet to let down our respective guards."

"That's what I was afraid of," Kirk said, frowning. "What if he doesn't come back? What if we live the rest of our lives, always looking over our shoulders, wondering if it's all in our heads?"

"I would assume after a certain amount of time, as this reality remains stable, you would accept it and move on, so to speak."

"Maybe it was all a dream."

"I do not think so, Captain. I can assure you our experiences in the mind-meld were not normal functions of human or Vulcan brain pattern—there _was _someone manipulating our thoughts."

"But why?" Kirk said, a little too loudly. Uhura glanced over from her station, as well as some other crewmembers. Kirk pretended that he was quite interested with a scuff on the arm of his chair, until he was pretty sure they'd looked away. "Why would someone we've never even met before be interested in our fates? What we think of each other? What we think of ourselves? Why would they even care?"

"And that, Captain Kirk, is my cue, once again."

A crewmember he had never noticed before turned around in the swiveling chair. He was an older gentleman, with a high forehead and nondescript brown hair, and a sort of mischievous look on his face.

"If I may be so bold, sir, but you are not a crewmember of the Enterprise."

"And a talent for stating the obvious, one of the things that always ticks me off about Vulcans—makes 'em endearing, yes, but oh-so-annoying," he got up from the seat, and took a stroll towards them. Kirk was equally annoyed. Who was this guy, thinking he can just waltz up on his ship like this?

"Let me guess. You're not Khan."

"Not quite, though I really can't wait for you to meet him," the man said with a slimy grin. "So, boys, did you learn something in our little lesson through time?"

"You were responsible for all of this?"

"Well, not everything," he waved his hand toward the viewscreen. "The whole premise behind this, I'm sorry to say, wasn't my idea, but I jumped on it once I realized what was going on."

Kirk was beginning to get a headache. "Wait…what!?"

"Oh come on, the 23rd century did have _some _advances in brainpower. Figure it out—"

"My alternate's mistake of design in leaving the memories behind in Captain Kirk was not your doing, but once you realized what was happening, you decided you wanted to manipulate it. For what end, I cannot say," Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I knew I always liked you, too. You better thank me after that little radiation incident, you know—I'm just telling you now, for future reference-"

"Wait-wait-wait—" Kirk raised a hand. "You _still _haven't answered my question."

The man ignored him, and strolled around the front of the bridge. Kirk realized that the crew had disappeared again, and it was just him, Spock, and the stranger. "I love this viewscreen," the man jerked his thumb at it. "I mean, it's so shiny and sharp-looking. All this glass everywhere…it just catches the light and gives it this great lens-flare effect— like, right in your face and everything, all the time!"

"Look, if you don't give me an answer, I'm going to have to ask you to politely exit our heads, and leave this ship."

"And you, just a baby, not even knowing the great adventures you'll have—"

"I'm…tired…of everyone…telling me how _great_ the future is." Kirk got up out of his seat. "How much fun I'll have. All the great stories I'll be able to tell. Well, you know what? Apparently I get buried in a pile of faceless bunnies, shot at in the OK Corral, get beat half to death a lot, make a mortal enemy that doesn't care who he has to destroy to get to me, and lose my best friend, and who knows what else kind madness that lies out there—oh, and try and not to get a bunch of people under my command killed while I'm getting pummeled by the latest and greatest alien civilization that decides it wants to see if humanity is worth getting to know!"

The man was checking his cuticles. He didn't bother looking up. "You done? Get that off your chest?"

"What?"

"You're really something, you know that? This exercise…this wasn't supposed to show you all the mistakes you made, all the bad stuff that's going to happen…you aren't looking at the big picture. This is what happens when you make Captain so young in this universe," he scratched his head. "That might give you a tougher time of things—but anyway that's not the point. The point is to show you why it's _worth it_."

Spock spoke up. "If I may interject, you didn't need to show us this. Why did you not bother to let us find out on our own? We've already been given a glance of the future. It is unwise to show us more—man isn't meant to know such things—it has a negative effect on one's psyche. I assume you mean no malice in your attempt, however, because you could have easily destroyed us if you truly wanted to harm us. In effect, I can only assume you are doing this because you are amused by our adventures in the future, and wanted to see our reactions to certain events."

"You really take the fun out of everything, don't you?" the man rolled his eyes.

"Actually he's right, Spock," Kirk murmured, thinking out loud. "Maybe the timeline won't correct itself exactly the way it was. Maybe everything will be different. Or maybe it'll all go back to being the same. But all that craziness…even the hard parts, even the sad parts…it's a challenge. It's the difference between a desk job and outrunning Klignon warships. It's the difference between a lazy country afternoon, and finding a planet with sentient balloon fliers and living sparkles and who knows what else, and making first contact with a race that just reached warp technology—it's about being there with these people…" he pointed at the seats around him. "And this ship." He gave a sidelong glance to Spock. "And I can't think of anything better I'd like than to go out in space with these people and this ship and just…see new things."

The man clapped his hands in a slow, epic clap. "Bravo. Bravo, what a rousing speech. You were always good at those, weren't you? But I agree with Mr. Spock—such knowledge, that I have given you, is something that man isn't meant to know. Or Vulcan. And so I'm sorry to say that you're not going to remember much of this…enough to give you the odd nightmare, but nothing much more."

Spock interjected. "And you still have not answered the question, sir, or identified yourself. I would not be presumptuous to assume that you will, but if you respect us, as your actions and intentions have indicated, it would be appropriate if you would answer our questions."

Everything was starting to fade. Kirk could feel it, like sleep pulling on the edges of consciousness, or perhaps like the feeling of leaving a dream, of waking up.

"Don't be silly, I don't respect anyone," the man said, with the hint of a tone in his voice that meant it wasn't true. "And you'll find out who I am…eventually. But you already know the answer to why."

Kirk balked—suddenly his annoyance, his anger had faded—and he realized he didn't want to forget. He didn't want to forget Spock's memories, he didn't want to forget any of it. "Wait—" he held out a hand. "Don't…don't let me forget everything—just…just leave at least one, okay? You'll know which one."

And then he woke up.

"Jim!" Bones voice cut through the darkness like a knife.

Kirk rose from the sickbay bed, groggier than he'd felt in ages. But…better. Like he'd slept for fifteen hours. Someone had kindly, yet hastily, thrown a blanket on him, and he peeled it off.

"How long was I out?" he said, his voice thick with fatigue.

"About fifteen hours—after Spock finished the mind-meld, I hit you with a sedative."

"Spock!" Kirk threw the blanket away and jumped off of the bed.

"He's fine, Jim," Bones held him back. "He's actually on the bridge now—come on, I'm not releasing you fit for duty until I examine you first—sit back down…seriously Jim, he's fine. You're the one I'm worried about."

"Nah, you don't gotta worry about me, I'm…" he racked his brain. Everything about the past day or so was fuzzy. Too fuzzy. A nagging feeling that something was wrong. "What exactly did he do in there? I remember everything until…until the mind-meld. What happened?"

"Whatever he did, he fixed it," Bones was tapping commands in the computer next to his bed. "Hold still, it's just scanning your head…"

"There's something…something I need to…" he couldn't remember, but that voice, that nagging voice was insistent. "Sorry, Bones—we'll finish this later, I promise." And with that, he ran out the door before Bones could stop him. He heard a string of southern colloquialisms about stubborn wild horses down the hall as he ran.

Kirk knew he probably looked a mess, but at least he was still wearing proper uniform. He adjusted his shirt as best he could and he walked on like nothing was amiss. Everyone stared at him as soon as he entered the bridge, however.

"Er…carry on," he said, as he approached his chair. Spock was sitting there, and immediately got up.

"The Doctor didn't inform me that you'd regained consciousness. I assume that the results of his examination were satisfactory for you to return to duty?"

He jerked his head towards the back of the bridge, where it afforded a little more privacy. Spock understood the gesture and they moved back by the turbolift.

"First of all…thanks."

"Don't mention it, I'm sure you would have done the same for me."

"Second of all…something happened. In there. Something really important…and something that shouldn't have been forgotten. You wiped my memory, didn't you? Or it's a side-effect?"

"It is not a side-effect. On the contrary, Captain, I made no attempt to wipe your memory, but in fact my recollection of the mind meld's contents are missing as well. Whatever it was, it was not me."

"Then someone else did—Bones? Another Vulcan? Maybe you should do it again and see if you can find the memories—"

"I attempted to, actually. They are simply gone—not rerouted, as I have learned to do, but simply gone. As if they never existed. At least the memories that were giving you trouble are gone. You will be able to return to a normal state of mind, now."

"I feel like I lost something…"

"The sensation of loss will fade, in time. It's a common impression, even if the procedure is rare there have been documented cases on Vulcan as such. I suggest you cease thinking about it, as there is no point in trying to remember."

"It's not even that—" Kirk had fully expected some usual weirdness when it came to mind-melds. "The fact that someone erased our memories… is what worries me."

"Perhaps we will discover it soon enough."

Discover. Instead of feeling discouraged, it somehow pleased him. A mystery to be solved. Something interesting and new to be found. He didn't know why he cared so much, but there was something there, something he had to remember.

He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how long it took.

"The chair is yours, Captain, and I will return to my post," Spock nodded, and left to his station. Kirk walked to his chair, and sat in it slowly…his chair, his ship. Bones would probably kill him once he stepped back into medical, so he wasn't going to go back there anytime soon.

Why did it feel so important, all of a sudden? Something told him right then, to cherish every second he was in that chair. He wasn't going to give it up for anybody. He looked at the people around him—Sulu, Uhura, Chekov, everyone…it felt right. He felt like he was home.

This was his Enterprise.

But first things first.

The Vulcan colony was growing daily, as workers were pouring in from nearby systems, eager to help the refugees build new homes and apartments, some of the more profit-driven groups taking advantage of the situation, though in effect it was creating a veritable construction boom. The Vulcans themselves weren't all that interested in their living quarters, preferring to get straight to work on creating a new society, in effect, from the old one. It had been two years since the destruction of their world, and it still seemed like their work was just beginning.

One such Vulcan heard a knock on his front door early in the morning.

"Package delivery accepted," said the computer console at the door. A shadow as the delivery man disappeared down the walkway.

He opened his door and picked up the package—it was wrapped in crinkled, brown paper, and tied with string—a curious, old-fashioned way of doing things. Most packages were shipped in efficient biodegradable plastic containers with id chips instead of stamps. This one had a hand-written address on the front, but no return address, if memory served him correct, on the top left corner.

Without bothering to close his front door, he untied the string and deftly unfastened the tape that held the paper wrapping together. Within the package, was a note, and a book. He held the book in one hand, and read the note.

"I never got to properly thank you. Not only for what you showed me, but for what you did for him. I can only hope that someday, I'll get a version of this book back. Then I'll know that it truly was the best of times."

Spock placed the note underneath the book and read the title:

A Tale of Two Cities.

It could almost be said that the old Vulcan had what looked like a smile on his face as he closed the door.

Almost.

* * *

The one thing that really stuck out about the TOS that is different from the new movies now is the optimism of the future versus the cynicism of the future...today. We have communicators in our pockets that talk to us and doors opening up on their own is a normal, everyday occurrence, and yet we don't have the same kind of stories-it's almost like if you make an overly optimistic movie, it's considered corny...uncool even. Don't get me wrong, I love angsty stories like Empire Strikes Back, and I absolutely can't wait for Into Darkness...but I love the juxtaposition between the modern, cynical Kirk and the optimistic, hopeful Kirk of the past.

Kirk's rant about how awful the future seems and then realizing what Roddenberry was trying to show...is a theme that inevitably came up with the events of the story. And I usually hate memory-wipe stories/it's a dream in the end stories, but with the things Kirk was shown, it could mess someone up to know their future, certain time-travel movies have dictated. Besides, he really only needed to remember one thing. And that was how much Spock meant to him.

And seriously-Q visited like every Captain except Kirk and Archer. I'm sure that Q had a soft spot for Kirk, because how else can you explain the events of Search for Spock? I mean really...Spock magically making it to his exact age that he was in Wrath of Khan so that it ties everything up in a nice neat continuity? No way. And Q can't bring people back to life, so my theory is he de-aged him when he was in the coffin, cause the Genesis effect was obviously already done by the time the coffin got there. Cause that was extra-convenient for him to be a baby just in time for people to get to that planet, and not any time in the days before hand.

That's totally Q. He must be a TOS fan.

Thank you to everyone who read, favorited, followed, and reviewed! I appreciate the time you took to read this little story of mine, and hope you stick around for more Trek tales. I've grown fond of writing my little version of Kirk, and hope I can write more about him in the future. Is a sequel in store? Maybe if I get on a TOS watching marathon again... :D


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